


Accidental Magic

by almondjoyz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-22
Updated: 2006-10-22
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:12:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almondjoyz/pseuds/almondjoyz
Summary: While waiting for his 17th birthday to arrive so he can leave the prison of the  Dursleys', Harry learns new information about himself, his aunt, mother and  Albus Dumbledore. The information he learns will greatly increase his power  while at the same time change how he feels about the woman given the task of  raising him.





	1. A New Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Chapter One:

_A New Perspective_

~*~

 

Petunia Dursley smiled broadly at her little boy. Little Duddykins was learning so many new words and was a rather musical child. He loved to bang his fork and spoon on his high chair and sing out in his little angelic voice. He was her little pumpkin and nearly looked like one, too. He had a round little face with cheeks that just begged to be pinched and little marble-like eyes that expressed his every want and need. People had accused her of spoiling her son, but that was just a bunch of codswallop, really. Dudley got what he needed. Nothing extra was given to him. He needed everything he got…he was, after all, a very demanding, no, energetic little boy. And Petunia was just the type of mother he needed.

 

When her husband, Vernon Dursley, a stately man with a sturdy build, came home on the evening of the first of November, however, he was acting rather odd. He kept staring out the window, craning his neck as if to get a better glimpse of something interesting. On the few occasions Petunia tried to ask what was bothering Vernon, he merely grunted and resumed his perusal of the newspaper.

 

Having tucked Dudley safely within his cot along side his customary fifteen little stuffed animals, Petunia ambled back to her bedroom in her slippered feet. Nearing the door, she heard Vernon mumbling.

 

“Blasted owls! Leave us alone!” He was hunched over the window seat, his eyes squinting out the window. 

 

“Vernon,” she began, pulling back the blankets on the bed before sliding inside, “What is it?” 

 

“Uh, nothing, ‘tunia. Nothing a ‘tall,” he muttered in response, climbing into the bed, sending Petunia up into the air as his weight settled onto the mattress. “Some odd things happening today, that’s all.” Vernon leaned over and gave Petunia a peck on the cheek and she settled on her left side and quickly drifted off to sleep.

 

The odd things that Vernon noticed earlier in the day gave no clue as to the importance of the day. In Petunia’s mind, it had been a normal day in which she had spent taking care of her Duddly-Wuddly, peering at the neighbours and reading the local gossip rags for news and photos of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. 

 

However, in a world well hidden away from the likes of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, there was a celebration going on. An evil man, more evil than Hitler or Nero, had been killed and destroyed. This news would not make the cover of magazines or the front page of the world’s newspapers. The celebration would not be featured on the local news or any other ‘normal’ entertainment venue. This news was celebrated by a portion of society that existed on extreme secrecy: the Wizarding World.

 

What happened to this evil man, or more specifically, this wizard? It was reported that this man, Lord Volde--He Who Must Not Be Named, was killed in a little town named Godric’s Hollow by a little boy of roughly fifteen months, not much younger than Dudley Dursley was. This little boy was no ordinary little boy that was sure. He was the son of James and Lily Potter, a magical couple who were in hiding from Vold--You Know Who. The wizard killed the father, then turned on the woman and her baby. The woman died, while the baby, miraculously, survived one of the most evil curses in the world, _Avada_ _Kedavra._ Details were scarce and as there were no eyewitnesses or survivors, most is speculation. But one fact remained. Harry Potter lived.

 

~*~

 

The following morning, Petunia Dursley set about her normal morning routine, heading to the front door to collect her bottles of milk from the milkman. With her hand on the doorknob, she pulled open the front door to find, not just her normal four bottles of milk and two pounds of cheese, but a basket containing a giggling boy with a wild tuft of black hair and a lightening-bolt scar on his forehead. He smiled up at the woman and she let out a tremendous scream that brought her husband Vernon barrelling down the stairs, bulldozing his way over to his wife.

 

“Petunia, what…?” Vernon stopped short upon seeing the little boy, the basket and the letter on his front stoop. He reached down to take the letter and it suddenly flew out of his reach. Again, Mr. Dursley attempted to take hold of the letter and yet again, it flew away. When Petunia reached down, the letter drifted into the air and settled in the pocket of her dressing gown.

 

“Pick it up! Get it out of the daylight!” The ‘it’, of course was the little boy in the basket. The little boy in the basket was none other than Harry Potter, orphan son of James and Lily Potter, banisher of You Know Who and nephew of Petunia Evans Dursley.

 

Petunia knelt down next to the little boy, who had begun to crawl out of the basket, and picked him up underneath the armpits, resting him on her hip as she stood. Petunia slowly backed into the house and in the blink of an eye, she and the little boy were surrounded by a blinding white light with little pink and blue sparkles that twittered about them. The boy smiled at her, and she smiled back in spite of herself before looking into the angry and dark eyes of her husband.

 

“Open the letter,” Vernon barked. “Let’s see what the bloody hell is going on.”

 

Her left hand reached into the pocket of her gown while her right held Harry to her body. With dexterity she never knew she possessed, Petunia opened the heavy parchment envelope and began to read the letter, which was written in a thin handwriting she didn’t recognise.

 

_Dear Petunia Dursley,_

_My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_I am sorry to inform you that your sister Lily and her husband, James, were killed on the evening of October 31st._

_As his only living relative,_ _custody of their child, Harry James Potter, falls to you. His godfather is unavailable to take charge of young Harry at the time._

_As you are sure to have noticed, you have experienced a Family Binding Charm. This charm solidifies the custody transfer and binding until Harry turns seventeen years of age. As long as Harry lives in your home, he experiences the protection that your sister began when she sacrificed herself for her son. You and only you can continue the protection._

_I send you my deepest condolences at this sorrowful time. I will contact you again within the next few weeks to explain how you will benefit from raising Harry._

_Your servant,_

_Albus PWB Dumbledore_

 

Petunia reread the letter three times before handing it off to her husband.

 

“It’s nothing but a blank piece of heavy parchment. Whoever sent this is a nutter,” Vernon harrumphed. He stared at Harry and backed away into the corridor.

 

“Vernon. It’s Harry. Lily’s boy.” Petunia wiped away a stray tear that she was surprised to have shed. “She…she’s d..dead, Vernon. There’s no one left to take him.”

 

“Well, I’m not allowing _THAT_ in my house to do who knows what to our son. Our perfectly _NORMAL_ son!” Vernon was shaking his index finger at Harry, who was attempting to wriggle free from his aunt’s arms.

 

“It’s too late, dear. I’ve sealed the charm.” Petunia gently set Harry down on the floor and he began crawling across the floor.

 

“What?” Vernon’s face had turned a bright shade of purple and looked like he was likely to explode. “Send him to a home, Petunia!”

 

“No. I can’t. It was explained in the letter, Vernon,” she explained. “It was a magic letter and only I can read it. I can’t let him leave.” Harry pulled himself up on his uncle’s pyjama leg and tugged at the paisley patterned cotton.

 

Vernon raised a hand to Petunia and pointed at her with a scowl on his face. “Fine. But he gets nothing extra, no special treatment. I won’t allow him to disrupt my life.” Vernon began breathing heavily. “I will not allow _MAGIC_ in this house. Dudley is _OUR_ son, and don’t you forget it!”

 

Vernon stormed off down the corridor to the kitchen, leaving Harry to tumble to the floor with nothing more than a little squeal.

 

“Harry,” Petunia said, kneeling on the floor beside him. He reached up and pulled on a loose curl from her head.

 

“Muh,” Harry whimpered, the first sign of emotion Petunia had seen all morning. “Da-da?” His little mouth began to pout and she saw his lower lip begin to quiver. She watched helplessly as fat tears began falling down his cheeks and the little boy began to wail and scream for the two people who loved him more than life itself.

 

Petunia fell onto the floor beside her nephew and pulled him into her arms, rocking him back and forth, their tears mingling on the wood floor beneath them. “We’ll make it, Harry. I don’t know how, but we’ll make it.”


	2. The Rosewood Puzzle Box

  
**Accidental Magic**  
Chapter Two:  
 _The Rosewood Puzzle Box_  
  
~*~  
  
  
The woman in the tartan robes wiped her eyes with the handkerchief she’d removed from her pocket. Her greying hair had started falling out of the customary tight bun at the base of her head as she mounted the stairs and felt them move her around and around until she reached the door of her new office. Placing a shaking hand on the worn oak, she pushed it open and surveyed the room with a heavy heart. The instruments, spindly-legged tables and odd artefacts turned her tears into sobs, causing her to sink to her knees in the middle of the floor. She rarely showed this much emotion but the events of the last few days overwhelmed her and she let the tears come.  
  
“Minerva.” The familiar voice echoed through the room.  
  
“Albus?” She wiped her eyes and walked toward the new portrait that contained the image of her long-time friend, mentor, and confidant. She got to her feet and walked to the picture, absently stroking the gilded frame. “What can I do for you?”  
  
“Ther is nothing more you can do for me. There is something you can do for Harry, however.” His voice sounded tired.  
  
“Potter? What?” Minerva stared back at Albus’ image, watching him yawn.  
  
“The Box, Minerva.” He yawned again. “The Rosewood Puzzle Box.” The image of the recently dead man fell asleep, slumped in the cushy chintz chair, his hands folded serenely in his lap.  
  
 _The Box? For Potter?_ Minerva shook her head, trying to analyze what she just heard. She knew that Albus and the boy were close, perhaps closer than they should have been, but this could only mean one thing, and Minerva McGonagall was amazed at what it meant.  
  
However, not one to _not_ do what Albus asked, Minerva quickly made her way to a bookcase laden with boxes she knew Albus had used to hide things. The particular box, the Rosewood Puzzle Box, was a relic rumoured to be from the time of Merlin. The ancient box sat alone on the fifth shelf. She withdrew her wand from her robes and expertly levitated the wooden vessel down onto the desk.  
  
The container was about the size of a large jewellery box and had an intricate puzzle inlaid into the lid, forming a puzzle intended to be a lock. Minerva only saw the box on one previous occasion, another sad time in her life. It was two days after James and Lily Potter were killed, and she stood in the exact spot.  
  
~*~  
  
 _“It’s real? I never knew you had it, Albus?” Dumbledore held out the box to Minerva McGonagall, gently stroking the fine carvings of the lid.  
  
“Ah, yes. I never thought you would be one to doubt me, Minerva. I have informed you on several occasions that this particular box is a prized treasure in our world.” She watched as Albus’ long, thin fingers began moving the pieces of the lid around, turning the criss-crossed hash marks into a rose. With a click, the box opened on its own, bringing forth a gasp from Minerva’s lips.  
  
“This is indeed Merlin’s box and as the Guardian of Merlin, I am entrusted with it.” Dumbledore sat behind his desk and motioned for Minerva to take the chair across from him. “I want to show you this because when I die, you will be the only one permitted to open it.”  
  
“Albus, surely you don’t think…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. So much had happened in the last few days.  
  
“No, no, no. I intend to live many more years, Minerva. The secrets contained inside the box must be protected and I am choosing you as caretaker.” He slid the box across the desk in front of the Scottish woman.  
  
“But, surely, Aberforth would be a better caretaker.” The brothers hadn’t had much contact in the last few years but they were, after all, family.  
  
“His goats take his attention away from his magical responsibilities. Do you accept the job, my dear friend?” He cocked his eyebrow as he looked across the desk.  
  
“Of course, Albus, I will. But what is inside?” Her curiosity was getting the better of her.  
  
“Is curiosity killing the cat?” Minerva blushed at the reference to her Animagus form.  
  
“No, no. I merely wondered what could be so important.”  
  
“Knowledge, Minerva.” Dumbledore stood up and walked over to the window overlooking the courtyard of his beloved Hogwarts. “I do not believe that Voldemort has gone completely, Minerva. The box gives the new Guardian power to defeat Voldemort completely.”  
  
“What?” She joined Dumbledore at the window, looking out into the dark night. “Why can’t you use it? Surely, the information will work now as well as later.”  
  
“No. It cannot.” Albus turned to her, a serious look on his face. “Do you promise?”  
  
“Yes, Albus.”  
  
“And hopefully, you will never have to open it.”_  
  
~*~  
  
Minerva McGonagall wiped another tear from her face as she allowed the memory to fade from her mind and she walked to the desk with a heavy heart. The day had come, she was sure, and the realization that Harry Potter was the one intended to receive this information calmed her nerves considerably. For all his rule breaking ways, stubbornness and temper, she could think of none more deserving of Dumbledore’s trust and information. He was a remarkable boy. A true testament to his parents’ memories.  
  
She placed her hand on the tiles of the puzzle and manoeuvred them around the lid and it popped open, revealing several sealed envelopes, one with her name written in Albus’ slanted hand. Taking a deep breath, she opened her letter and began to read.  
  
 _Minerva,_  
  
If you are reading this, I am dead and Harry Potter has not yet turned seventeen. It is imperative that you follow the instructions I give you perfectly in order for everything to be completed.  
  
There is a letter to be owled to Petunia Dursley. She is expecting it. Please send it a week before Harry’s birthday. On midnight of July thirty-first, the Box will deliver itself to Harry.  
  
Thank you for completing my task as Guardian. The Puzzle Box will no longer be yours after Harry turns seventeen. He is the one, Minerva. Harry will conquer Voldemort. Of that, I have no doubt.  
  
Until you join me on the wall,  
Albus  
  
McGonagall took the letter addressed to Mrs Dursley and placed it on the desk beside the box before closing the lid, watching the pieces of the puzzle magically rearrange themselves before taking it back to the shelf. Stepping away, she quietly left the office, not ready to accept the fact that it was now hers. Albus was the epitome of the protector of Hogwarts and she was the one with the daunting task of replacing him and convincing others that this place, this ancient hub of learning and tradition, was still safe and a worthy place for families to send their children.  
  
Minerva’s thoughts continued along these lines as she made her way toward the Owlery. Without thinking, her steps led her toward the lake and the gleaming white tomb that now stood along the shore, blanketed with flowers and wreaths. She found herself standing before the marble tomb, letter in hand. She took a deep breath.  
  
“Albus, I’m sending the letter to Mrs. Dursley. I promise that whatever it takes, I will lend my aid to Harry Potter.” She smiled, thinking of all the trouble the young man got up to during his six years at this place. “He has grown into a powerful and wise wizard. I hope everything goes according to your plan.” She turned around and made her way with determination toward the Owlery, determined to set into motion a plan that she didn’t fully comprehend but trusted implicitly.  



	3. Revelations

  
Author's notes: Chapter Summary: Petunia has something to tell Harry about his past. And something about hers as well.  


* * *

**Accidental Magic**  
Chapter Three:  
 _Revelations_  
  
~*~  
  
Petunia stood outside Harry’s bedroom door, her stomach a knot of nerves at what she knew she had to do. As she took a deep breath, she reflected on how things went in this home as Harry was growing up. In the early years, she tried to raise Dudley and Harry equally, giving both of them equal portions of her heart. They were so different and they both needed her in differing ways. Where Dudley was boisterous, Harry was calm. Dudley was demanding, Harry generous. Things changed dramatically shortly before the boys turned four years old; Harry began doing accidental magic.  
  
~*~  
  
 _Petunia was out in the back garden with Dudley and Harry, enjoying the nice weather of early summer. Her eyes fell upon the boys and she smiled when Harry tossed a ball over to Dudley before turning her attention back to her book. Mere moments later, Harry was screaming, lying on the grass, his nose bleeding, staining his shirt crimson. She dashed across the lawn to the boys and right before her eyes, Harry’s nose stopped bleeding and Dudley’s hair caught fire.  
  
“Dudley!” she screamed, draping her son’s head with the blanket the boys had been sitting upon. Dudley wailed and tears began streaming down his face. She scanned the top of her sons head to assess the damage. There were no burns, no blisters, no acrid smell of burnt flesh and hair. All she saw was a shiny scalp that made her son look like a genie, sans the hoop earring.  
  
Vernon was livid when he returned home from work and nearly drove Harry to an orphanage himself. It was then that changes happened around the house. Photos were removed from the lounge; childhood drawings were taken down from the refrigerator; clothes were no longer new for the little boy. When Harry began primary school, they moved him into the broom cupboard under the stairs. When this happened, a dramatic change happened in Harry’s personality. Gone was the happy boy who smiled everyday. He was replaced by a quiet, introspective boy who cowered whenever his uncle’s voice was raised. Her son changed as well, following his father’s lead, making Harry feel like a pest that needed to be squashed or exterminated. As the years passed, Harry still had occasional instances of magic but by the time he was seven, the occurrences had decreased to the point where she and Vernon were sure the magic had been removed._  
  
~*~  
  
Taking a deep breath Petunia prepared herself for what she needed to do, for what she needed to tell Harry. She had gone over and over the details she needed to say in her head several times already and each time, it never felt right to her. She rapped at the door, ready to get on with it.  
  
“Harry?” the door opened, revealing the lanky young man with tousled black hair whom she should have raised like a son.  
  
“Yes?” She couldn’t help but hear the irritation in his voice.  
  
“May I come in? I need to speak with you.” Her eyes fell onto the floor, not wanting to meet the green eyes that reminded her so much of her long-gone sister.  
  
“If you must,” he answered. Harry backed into his room and fell onto the bed, his hands behind his head and ankles crossed. She surveyed the room and noticed that aside from the owl cage, there was no sight of any of his personal belongings.  
  
“You packed.” Of course he did. He was leaving her life forever in a few days.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” he said with irritation. “You can give Dudders his room back soon.” Harry rolled over onto his side away from her. “So did you need to say anything besides commenting on my cleaning?”  
  
“Harry,” she said softly, sitting at the foot of his bed. “I need to talk to you about your mother.”  
  
Harry sprung up to sit facing her, his face contorted with what she assumed was a tremendous amount of anger. “What? You haven’t brought her up in conversation for as long as I can remember. So what’s so important now?” By the look of his clenched fists and the stiffness of his body, Petunia knew he was exercising an extreme amount of magical control.  
  
“Dumbledore wants me to tell you about her.”  
  
Harry let out a chuckle. “Impossible. He’s dead, Petunia.”  
  
“I know, Harry.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off. “He wrote me a letter before he died and I just received it a few days ago. You need to hear this.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because you are The Guardian.” His eyes widened, telling her he knew what she was talking about.  
  
“What did you just say?” His body relaxed and he looked her straight in the eye.  
  
“You are The Guardian. You will receive the Rosewood Puzzle Box and absorb the knowledge of Merlin and those before you,” she answered, reciting exactly what she planned in her head. “And you also need to know about your family and about me. Dumbledore promised me something when I took you in, in addition to providing you with protection. I can only receive the gift if you hear what I have to say.” She waited as Harry processed the information he heard. After a few moments, he got up and began pacing his room and running his hands through his hair in frustration. He stopped pacing finally, and leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“We were close once, your mother and I.” Petunia swallowed, her mouth suddenly gone dry. “Even though I was a few years older, we were closer than most sisters. On her eleventh birthday, she received her letter from Hogwarts.” Petunia remembered the joy on her sister’s face as she read the long missive before running into the sitting room to find their mother. “She was so excited. It didn’t matter that no one in the family was magical. She had found her place. She was bright, talented and very mature for her age. Shortly after her birthday, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall stopped by to discuss things with our parents.”  
  
Petunia told him of the conversations and arguments that followed once the witch and wizard arrived. She told him how she and Lily hid at the top of the stairs, straining to hear what the fuss was all about. After a few hours, Lily was taken into the room, leaving Petunia alone on the stairs. Harry listened intently while Petunia told of his mother’s squeal of delight and how she trampled up the stairs to explain to her elder sister that she was a witch and would go away to school in Scotland.  
  
“I went to Diagon Alley and was mesmerized by the different world that was suddenly open to my sister while at the same time jealous that I couldn’t join her. I was with her when she bought her wand: ten inches of beautiful willow with a core of unicorn hair.” Petunia motioned for Harry to sit next to her on the bed and he surprised her by agreeing to the request. He also surprised her with his silence and part of her wanted him to lash out at her, show some sort of reaction, anything to show her that he heard what she was saying.  
  
“I wanted to be a witch.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “When we got home, I took her wand from her shopping bag and waved it, wanting to see what would happen.” Petunia then told her nephew something she had never told another living soul. “I conjured a bouquet of flowers.”  
  
“What did you just say?” Harry’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “All this time, you were magical and you treated me worse than a stray dog?” The windows of his room exploded, sending shattered glass flying out onto the grass below.  
  
“No, Harry,” she began. “I’m not magical. But I’m not a Squib, either. Lily caught me with the flowers. We didn’t know what it meant. She was angry and I was so scared. All I wanted was to join her at Hogwarts.”  
  
“Then what happened?” he asked. Petunia noticed his voice softened and the look of utter disbelief had left his face.  
  
“Before she left, we went though one of her Charms books and we tried a few things. Lily was able to make a feather float…”  
  
“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.” Harry smiled.  
  
“Yes! That was the spell she did.” Petunia put on her own smile, meeting Harry’s gaze with her eyes. “I wasn’t able to do any more than that. Except at Kings’ Cross. We couldn’t go through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ with her. I made rubbish bins fall over as I walked passed them on my way back to the car. My parents were embarrassed and angry with me.” Petunia paused, attempting to tamp down the emotions that were ready to erupt. “Things were never the same between us after she left.”  
  
Petunia explained how while she still felt close to her sister, the distance between them became greater and greater as Lily progressed in school. When Petunia met Vernon, she explained, he used Petunia’s hurt and loss to make her sister into a villain of sorts and that was the start of the animosity between the Evans sisters.  
  
“And then, Lily brought your father home for Christmas. Vernon and I were set to be married in March and James wanted to meet the family. It was disastrous.”  
  
“I can just about imagine,” Harry added, a cheeky grin on his face. “Dad didn’t have much patience for those he found annoying.”  
  
“Yes.” Petunia looked at her nephew again, continuing with her story. “James was not amused by Vernon and James flipped Vernon upside down by his ankles. That’s when Vernon found out your family was magical.”  
  
“ _Levicorpus_ ,” Harry added. “Vernon got down though, didn’t he?”  
  
Petunia blushed. “Well, of course, eventually.”  
  
“It was a rhetorical question.” Another smirk crossed his lips.  
  
“I was furious with them and told her I never wanted to see her again,” she stated flatly. “She took it hard. She sent me an invite to her wedding and your birth announcement but I threw them in the bin. I never forgave either of them.”  
  
Harry cleared his throat and stood in front of the window, looking at the glass that lay on the ground below him. “So what did he promise you?”  
  
She barely heard the question. “Pardon me?”  
  
He turned around to face her, an inquisitive look on his face. “What’d the old codger promise you? Magic?”  
  
“Yes.”  



	4. The Guardian of Merlin

**Accidental Magic**  
Chapter Four:  
 _The Guardian of Merlin_  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
“What’d the old codger promise you? Magic?”  
  
“Yes.” Silence enveloped the two of them as they stood less than a meter away from each other. Petunia stole a glance at her nephew. His hands were fisted at his sides and despite the clenching of his jaw his bottom lip was quivering the way it did the morning he arrived at their house all those years ago.  
  
“You selfish, hypocritical BITCH!” Harry’s trunk blew open and all his belongings flew across the room, circling him like a hurricane. Spell books, quills, parchment and even his clothing flew hither and yon around the room. “HE PROMISED YOU MAGIC AND YOU TREATED ME WORSE THAN A BLOODY LEPER!” The objects swirling around Harry suddenly attacked Petunia. She raised her hands to her face as she was pummelled with heavy books, stabbed by sharpened quills, and whipped by trousers and robes. “HOW COULD YOU? HOW _COULD_ YOU? IF YOU WANTED MAGIC SO GODDAMN BAD, YOU SURE FOOLED ME YOU TWO-FACED, VICIOUS OLD COW!”  
  
Without a look back, Harry stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind him. Shaking from the preceding events, Petunia heard Harry scream at Vernon and call Dudley a rather nasty name before heading out the front door. Without thinking, she made her way out the door, down the stairs, past an ashen-looking Vernon and an astounded Dudley. The front door, she assumed, had been blasted open from Harry’s magic and she ran down the street, trying to catch up to Harry. He turned sharply away from the house, his pace having slowed to a fast walk as he headed north. With energy she didn’t know she possessed, Petunia took off in a run and quickly caught up with Harry and grabbed him by the arm.  
  
“Harry…puh…please listen to me,” she begged between pants of exhaustion. Harry whipped around to face her, his wand pointed at her throat.  
  
“I wouldn’t even care right now.” Harry kept pointing his wand at her, a crazed look in his eye.  
  
“Harry…put it down,” Petunia cried.  
  
“Why would I want to listen to anything else you want to say to me? You’ve treated me like rubbish nearly my whole life. Why shouldn’t I make you feel some of the pain you’ve caused me?”  
  
“Go ahead, if it will make you feel better. Go on,” Petunia shot back at him. She raised her hands in surrender. “I’m a helpless Muggle staring down the business end of your wand, Harry. I can’t possibly do anything to hurt you.”  
  
“Really?” An evil smile spread across his face. “It’s a miracle I’m even sane after what you lot did to me,” he barked. “You should be locked up in the Tower for that!”  
  
“Harry, just calm down and be quiet!” Petunia shouted, surprising the both of them. Before she could continue, golden ropes wrapped around Harry’s legs making him fall onto the sidewalk. He opened his mouth to scream at her but nothing came out. Petunia put her hands to her mouth, shocked that this happened again after so many years. She began violently shaking her head refusing to believe she had done what she did. Petunia fell to the ground next to Harry and tried to release the ropes around his ankles, wrists and arms.  
  
“Can you release it without speaking?” Harry shook his head. He did, however, nod his head to the side, indicating his wand. “What do I do with it?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Think?” Harry nodded emphatically. “About what?” He opened and closed his mouth over and over. “You want to speak?” Again, he rolled his eyes and nodded again. “Well you don’t need to get cheeky with me, young man!”  
  
Petunia grasped his wand in her hands and closed her eyes, thinking _Let Harry speak. Let Harry speak._  
  
“What the hell’d you do that for? Give me that!” Harry snatched his wand away from her. “How the hell am I supposed to get rid of this? I can’t do magic outside school and I’m not seventeen yet!”  
  
“Just do it, Harry,” she ordered. “I doubt your government will worry about it with what’s going on these days.” Petunia watched as Harry muttered something and the golden bands dissolved.  
  
“I need to tell you about the Rosewood Puzzlebox, Harry. Please come home, and we can talk about this.” Her eyes begged him to follow her back down the street, her eyes never leaving his as she stood and held out a hand to him. With a sigh of disgust, Harry pushed aside her hand and hoisted himself up and he once again stood next to her.  
  
“Could you put that away, Harry?” she asked, placing a hand on his wand. “I don’t really trust you at the moment.”  
  
“Good. Start talking.” Harry tucked his wand into the knife pocket of his cargo pants.  
  
“What do you know about the Rosewood Puzzlebox?”  
  
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he retorted. “I find it hard to believe _you_ are telling me about the magical world.”  
  
“It’s all in here, Harry.” Petunia reached into her pocket and retrieved a well-worn parchment. “I’ve got it nearly memorized. It’s the second letter he sent me.”  
  
“After the Dementor attack…”  
  
“Yes. He referred to this letter,” Petunia finished for him. “Here, read it. It explains everything.” Petunia looked up to see they had walked all the way back home. Harry stared down at the letter and looked up to meet her eyes.  
  
“Can I have a moment, please?” Harry raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Oh of course.” Petunia quietly walked into the house, leaving Harry to sit on the front steps and read the letter explaining his destiny.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
  
 _Dear Mrs Dursley,_  
  
Thank you for accepting the Family Bonding Charm. Harry will be safe as long as he can call your residence home. Please raise him as your own. It’s the least you can do for your sister.  
  
There are some things you need to know about your nephew. He will grow to be a great wizard. He comes from a long line of wizards known as the Guardians of Merlin. While not all of us are direct descendants of Merlin himself, we all possess a great amount of magic. When Harry turns seventeen, he will become the Guardian of Merlin, thereby replacing me. This is why it is imperative that he remain safe with you until that time.  
  
What does this mean for Harry?  
  
In nearly sixteen years, Harry will receive a very special box, the Rosewood Puzzle Box. This box was a gift from King Arthur to Merlin. Merlin felt it was necessary to pass down knowledge from one generation to another so he placed a copy of his knowledge into the box and set about to find a worthy Guardian for that knowledge. As the centuries passed, there have been great wizards in each generation named as Guardians. I was notified of Harry’s selection at his birth, the same way it had been done for eons. I had to wait a long time for my replacement. Harry will receive the combined knowledge of every Guardian since Merlin. This knowledge will allow him to defeat Lord Voldemort. Even though he has disappeared, I am positive he is not completely gone. I knew Voldemort as a young man, and he was obsessed with immortality and surely would not allow a mere child of one to defeat him. I believe Harry’s selection as Guardian combined with his mother’s sacrifice is what allowed Harry to reflect the Killing Curse onto the Dark wizard.  
  
From speaking with your sister Lily over the years, she made it known to me that you had a wish to join her here at Hogwarts. Your relationship had been strained in recent years due to her magic, she told me, and for keeping Harry safe, that is what you shall receive.  
  
You will receive your own gift on Harry’s seventeenth birthday, and should you choose to accept it, you will have partial magic. You will be able to do household charms, cooking charms as well as healing charms. The only thing that will be required is a meeting with Filius Flitwick, Charms professor at Hogwarts.  
  
Remember, Harry must be able to call your house home until he turns seventeen.  
  
Your servant,  
  
Albus PWB Dumbledore  
  



	5. The Final Gift

**Accidental Magic**

Chapter Five:

_The Final Gift_

~*~*~*~

 

“Aren’t you coming to bed, dear?” Vernon asked Petunia from the foot of the stairs at eleven o’clock on the evening of July thirtieth. “Ah, that’s right. Need to make sure the freak leaves. May I wait with you? I’ve been itching to toss the boy out for years.” Vernon chuckled.

 

“I’ll be up as soon as he leaves,” Petunia reassured him. “You needn’t be bothered with this any longer.”

 

“Humph,” he answered. “At the stroke of midnight, Petunia. No later.” She watched him step heavily up the stairs, the wood creaking beneath his feet. 

 

Once she was sure that Vernon was in bed, she went into the lounge and found Harry pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. His steamer trunk was standing in the corner of the room and Hedwig’s cage sat atop it, empty. All he had in the world was in that trunk. No extraneous boxes of youthful collections or anything resembling that of a child leaving home. Just a steamer trunk and a cage. She wiped away the stray tear that escaped her eye.

 

“Vernon’s in bed. He won’t bother us.” Petunia sat on the sofa, her hands in her lap, not knowing what else to do with them. “What time are they coming?”

 

Harry stopped pacing. “Uh, quarter to twelve.” Petunia nodded.

 

“Where’s Hedwig?”

 

“I let her out at sunset. She’ll meet me at The Burrow.” The Burrow. That was what he actually considered his home instead of where he lived for most of his life. She felt a pang of jealousy toward the woman she never met, but whom she knew was more of a mother than she herself was.

 

“Where is that, exactly?”

 

“Near Ottery-St. Catchpole in Devon.” Petunia nodded. The small talk continued and Petunia learned Harry’d had a girlfriend last year in school. Her name was Ginny, his friend Ron’s sister. When Petunia asked why he ended things, Harry merely shrugged and his ears turned pink. She knew, even if Harry didn’t, that things really hadn’t ended between them. She also found out that he played Quidditch and that he was actually very good at it. Petunia remembered her sister’s inane ramblings about the sport and simply couldn’t grasp the idea of sport on broomstick. In forty-five minutes, she and Harry covered news from six years at Hogwarts. It was a pity, really, that it took his leaving for her to learn this much about him. 

 

When the clock chimed at 11:45, there was a loud crack in the kitchen followed by the sound of someone falling to the floor.

 

“Bloody hell, Hermione! You were supposed to put us in Harry’s room,” stated the voice of a young man Petunia assumed was Ron Weasley.

 

“Well, Ron,” began the girl, “seeing as how I’ve never actually been here before I think I did a fairly good job of Side-Along Apparation.” Her tone reminded Petunia of a haughty teacher of Dudley’s.

 

“Yeah, well you still landed us in the wrong place. Now we’ll probably have to run into that fat-arse uncle of his and Harry’s cow of an aunt.”

 

“Hello, there,” interrupted Petunia. Ron’s face and ears turned scarlet. “Harry’s right here.” She stepped aside to show them Harry, whose face, she noticed, lost all of its previous stress. He wore the biggest smile Petunia had ever seen and she watched while he ran to his friends and embraced them both in a warm hug.

 

“How are you, Harry?” the girl asked. “Have you had a good summer?”

 

“Uh, well, it’s been…” Harry paused and looked over at Petunia. “It’s been eventful. Ron, Hermione, this is my aunt Petunia. Petunia, this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. My best friends.” He smiled again.

 

“How nice to meet you,” Petunia said graciously. Ron nodded, his ears still red from earlier.

 

“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Dursley,” Hermione said, holding out her hand to Petunia. Both of the newcomers gave Harry quizzical looks Petunia couldn’t help but notice. Petunia shook the teenagers’ hands and motioned for them to sit down.

 

There was an uncomfortable silence as the four of them sat waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

 

“Harry, perhaps you should tell them,” Petunia stated, nodding towards Ron and Hermione. 

 

“What happened, Harry?” Hermione asked her eyes wide in worry.

 

“Um, well, I learned something about myself a few days ago.” Harry ran a nervous hand through his untidy hair.

 

“Are you a bloody descendant of Merlin now, Harry?” Ron smiled at his witty question. Petunia noticed Harry didn’t return Ron’s smile, which soon faded as the boy realized something was amiss.

 

“Harry? You’re related to Merlin?” Hermione asked incredulously. 

 

“Uh, no. Not quite.” Harry stood from his seat and went over to the fireplace. “Well, Hermione, you remembered everything from History of Magic, so what do you remember about The Guardian of Merlin and the Rosewood Puzzle Box?” Silence answered Harry’s question. Hermione’s mouth fell open and Ron began babbling incoherently.

 

“It’s a legend, Harry. That’s all. No one knows for sure if it even exists,” Hermione told him, having recovered from her initial shock. 

 

“And if it was real,” Ron added, “there’s no way to know who the Guardians are. There’s only one at a time.”

 

“How did you remember that?” Hermione turned to Ron, appearing more shocked that Ron knew that fact than she was that Harry brought up the topic. Her face softened and she grinned shyly at Ron.

 

“I did have to take the bloody History of Magic OWL exam without you, Hermione.” Ron blushed attractively, making Petunia smile in spite of herself at the display of young love.

 

“You know one,” Harry spoke up, tearing his friends’ eyes from each other. “Actually, you’ve known two.”

 

“What? You’re a nutter Harry.” Ron shook his head not wanting to listen to Harry.

 

“Harry…” Hermione began.

 

“Dumbledore and me.” Harry’s voice was a touch above a whisper, barely heard over the light breeze coming in through the window. “Dumbledore was one. And now I’m his replacement.”

 

“Bloody hell, Harry! You…you get all that…” Ron stammered.

 

“You’ll get Merlin’s knowledge, Harry,” Hermione finished.

 

“And that of all the other Guardians, too.” At Harry’s statement, Ron’s mouth dropped open, resembling that of a large-mouth bass.

 

“Holy bloody hell!” Ron shouted.

 

“Ron, language,” Hermione reminded him, nodding in Petunia’s direction.

 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Ron. Dudley uses much more colourful language sometimes,” Petunia pointed out with a smile. 

 

“So, why are you being so nice to Harry now?” Ron angrily asked Petunia, his face contorted with anger. “Just because he’s leaving, isn’t it?”

 

“Ron!” Hermione shouted. “That’s none of your business!”

 

“Hermione, Ron, I know what you must be thinking and I don’t blame you one bit.” Petunia’s eyes darted from Harry to Ron and then to Hermione. “We have worked some things out, but he can tell you himself.” She stood up to leave but was stopped by the chiming of the clock.

 

‘ _Bong…_ ’

 

Everyone’s head turned toward the clock.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

Petunia sat down in the nearest chair.

 

‘ _Bong…_ ’

 

Hermione began twiddling her thumbs nervously.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

Harry’s leg started jumping and tapping to an unheard beat.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

Ron put an arm around Hermione, pulling her close to him on the sofa.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

A wind picked up outside and rattled the shutters on the window.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

A green flash came from the area around the fireplace.

 

‘ _Bong…_ ’

 

A rush of wind came into the room, blowing papers into the air.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

A large wooden box flew into the room, landing on Harry’s lap.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

A smaller parcel blew down onto the floor at Petunia’s feet.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

All four of them stood up from their seats, Harry’s box falling to the floor with a muffled thud.

 

‘ _Bong_ …’

 

Pink and blue sparkles appeared around Harry and Petunia, exploding into bright colours before dissolving into nothing. All four of them stared around the room, eyes wide in amazement.

 

“Well, I guess the Charm’s ended,” Harry stated.

 

“Well, yeah, Harry, that’s rather obvious,” Ron answered cheekily. “Should we shove off, then?” Ron walked over to Harry’s trunk and levitated it off the floor.

 

“Uh, Ron, I’d rather stay and open these here,” Harry replied softly before Ron set the trunk back down on the floor. “I think she and I owe it to each other, yeah?” Harry turned toward Petunia. “Me first?” Harry picked his box off the floor and sat back down in his chair with a smile on his face. “It’s my birthday, right? You are going to watch me open my present, aren’t you?”

 

“Uh…well, sure, Harry. Right, Hermione?” Ron went back to the sofa and pulled her onto his lap where she settled herself comfortably. Petunia couldn’t help seeing the look that passed between the two and Harry’s reaction to their proximity. Hermione caught the look in Petunia’s eye and slid off Ron’s lap, sitting demurely at the other end of the sofa.

 

“Well, go ahead, Harry,” Petunia began, “let’s see what the Puzzle Box looks like.” 


	6. Full Circle

**Accidental Magic**

Chapter Six:

_Full Circle_

_~*~*~*~_

“Well let’s see what that Puzzlebox looks like, Harry,” urged Petunia. She knew Harry was nervous; he was biting his lower lip and his leg started bouncing again. 

 

“C’mon Harry, just get it over with,” Ron added. The redhead stared at Petunia impatiently. Despite his best efforts, she knew he didn’t trust her. 

 

“Fie, fine. Keep yer knickers on.” Harry carefully unwrapped the brown paper in silence and soon revealed the infamous box. Petunia couldn’t decipher the type of wood it was but the patina of the finish surely placed it at well over 200 years. In the back of her mind, she wondered what it would be worth at Sotheby’s. 

 

“Well, open it, Harry,” Hermione pressed him. “Is there a key?”

 

“No, but I think I need to work out this puzzle on top. You two come here and help me.” Ron and Hermione crossed the room and sat on the floor with Harry, the box on the floor between them.

 

Petunia sat silently from her spot on the chair, her own box weighing heavily on her lap. She thought about opening her own box while Harry was occupied, but thought it better to wait and see what Harry had in his. She sat quietly watching the three of them move carved tiles across the cover and held back her laughter as Hermione piped in every once in a while with an admonishment that the boys were doing something wrong. 

 

“Okay, now move that one there.” Harry followed Ron’s instructions and moved the last piece in place, causing the box to pop open.

 

“Well that’s certainly anti-climactic,” Hermione muttered. Looks like there’s a letter, Harry.” Harry nodded and retrieved a large sealed envelope.

 

“It’s from…it’s from Dum…Dumbledore,” Harry spat out, tears beginning to fall as he bravely tried to hold them back. His hands went to his eyes, wiping away the tears from underneath his glasses. 

 

“Do you want us to leave the room, Harry?” Petunias asked, causing all three heads to pop up and look at her. It was obvious they forgot she was in the room.

 

“No, no. That’s okay. I’ll read it to you all,” Harry answered, getting a look of encouragement from both Ron and Hermione.

 

 

_31 July, 1996_

_Dear Harry,_

_By now, you have learned of your selection as the new Guardian of Merlin. Welcome to the brotherhood. You join a long line of wizards and witches who have striven to protect the knowledge of Merlin. This long list includes such notable and varied names as Benjamin Franklin, Michelangelo, Queen Elizabeth I, and Montezuma. I daresay, I have waited the longest amount of time to learn the identity of my replacement._

_As you are familiar with the use of a Pensieve and the removal and storage of memories, I will not go into those details. Place the contents of the phial enclosed into my Pensieve and you will then be able to retrieve them, adding them to your memories and knowledge. The sensation of thousands of years of memories swirling around in your head is enough to drive you mad, Harry. You must take time to accustom yourself to your new knowledge. You must learn to compartmentalize the new memories, lest you go insane._

_Your replacement will be revealed to you in a vision on the day of their birth. On this child’s sixteenth birthday, you are to remove the knowledge, which would at this time include your own, and place them in a phial. It will adjust to fit into whatever size you have. As the child turns seventeen, you will deliver the Puzzlebox and bestow upon them the Guardianship._

_Add the contents of the phial to your memories soon, Harry. With the added knowledge of the former Guardians, you are guaranteed to live at least until your replacement turns sixteen._

“Harry! He’s telling you that you’ll live! You can beat him!” Ron’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and sprung from his seat, whooping and hollering in celebration.

 

“Shh!” Petunia and Hermione said together.

 

“Oh, sorry. Harry you do realize that, don’t you?” The three of them turned toward Harry, looking ashen and utterly gobsmacked.

 

“Uh, yeah.” He let a small smile escape his stoic façade and went back to finish the letter.

 

_Harry, I wish you luck in your quest to defeat Tom Riddle. You have a great responsibility ahead of you, Harry, and I am certain you will find success. Remember, your ability to love is your power. Keep your friends close Harry, and do not push love away. Allow those who love you to help you. They are your greatest resource._

_Your servant,_

_Albus PWB Dumbledore_

 

The letter drifted to the floor when Harry finished reading and he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Petunia, Ron and Hermione watched Harry for several moments, not knowing if he was laughing or crying or what was going on in Harry’s head.

 

Hermione went across to sit beside Harry and began rubbing his back, which was still shaking. “Are you alright, Harry? This is good news.”

 

Harry lifted his head and the remnants of tears remained in his eyes and on his cheeks. Sniffing loudly, wiped his nose with his hand. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that G..Ginny…”

 

“What about my sister, Harry?” Ron joined them on the sofa. “If you hurt her, I swear Voldemort will be the least of your worries.”

 

“Ron, I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t let her get involved in this. I love…” Harry stopped suddenly, his mouth covered with his hand.

 

“If you love her, Harry, why’d you break it off?” Hermione asked, her eyes full of concern.

 

“To protect her. Don’t you get it, you two? She’s a target because of me!” Harry began pacing again.

 

“Harry, she knows that and if you think you can keep her away form you just because of that, you really don’t know her that well.” Ron stopped Harry’s pacing, taking hold of his arm. “Now get over it and let’s get going, okay?” Harry nodded, looking at Petunia.

 

“But, uh, I’d like to see what Petunia got.” He sat on the floor at Petunia’s feet expectantly. Ron sighed heavily and dropped onto the sofa again, crossing his arms in disgust. 

 

Petunia picked up the small parcel and placed it into her lap, slowly removing the paper, revealing a smaller box with a note attached. She looked at Harry as he nodded for her to open it, anxious himself to see what it was all about.

 

“Go ahead,” Harry told her.

 

 

_Mrs Dursley,_

_Thank you for completing your task. As promised, by taking hold of the item in the other box, you will receive your gift of partial magic._

 

 

“What! Dumbledore’s giving her magic?” Ron’s face reddened while his anger began spilling out. “How can he? That’s never been done. She’s a Muggle for Merlin’s sake!”

 

“Ron, that’s no concern of yours,” scolded Hermione. “And since when are you prejudiced?”  
  


“Well then I suppose you think we should go around making all Muggles magic?” Ron shook his head again.

 

“Ron, it’s between her and Dumbledore, so shut it!” Harry yelled, receiving a harsh look from Hermione, her finger on her lips. “So what’s in that box?”

 

Petunia reached inside and found a long rectangular package with a large ‘O’ emblazoned on the cover. Lifting the lid, she gasped at what she saw. “It’s…it’s Lily’s wand! I’d recognize it anywhere.” She turned the box around to show Harry without removing it from the box.

 

“That was Mum’s?” Harry reached out to stroke the polished handle, taking in every nick and scrape.

 

“Willow with a unicorn hair. She was so excited to get a unicorn hair,” Petunia recalled. “She’d always loved them, especially after knowing they were real.” Petunia remembered how Lily pretended to be a unicorn by somehow fastening the wand to her forehead and prancing about the house with it, driving their mother utterly mad. The memory made her smile. “Once, after her third year, she showed me a picture of one and it was beautiful. Have you ever seen one, Harry?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Harry shifted uncomfortably on the floor. “They are beautiful.” Harry cleared his throat. “Go on, Aunt Petunia, take the wand. You’ll get your gift.”

 

Petunia looked down and studied the look on her nephew’s face. Here he was, considered to be a man in his world, but he never looked more like a little boy than he did at this moment. He experienced nothing but pain and loneliness in her house and it was all her own fault. She could have stood up to Vernon. She could have at least talked to her sister after Vernon was suspended upside down in the air. If she had more backbone, this could have been avoided. If she had given Harry the love he deserved, the love of a mother…

 

Her thoughts broke off as she decided what to do. Petunia’s decision had been made long ago when Lily stood between Death and her son. The magic of a mother’s love had no bounds and Death could never truly stop it. There was only one thing Petunia could say.

 

“No, Harry. I don’t want it.”

 

“But…but your wish? You and Mum…” Harry’s voice broke off as he tried to search her face for an explanation.

 

“I’m not taking it. I want you to have it. Don’t you see, Harry? Things have come full circle.” She reached out and brushed Harry’s hair from his eyes before sliding onto the floor next to him. “Your mother’s magic began all this when she gave up her life for yours. Use her magic to finish what she started, Harry. Use her wand to fulfill your destiny. Use the love in your heart for your friends and Dumbledore to destroy Voldemort. Use your love for Ginny to make the world safe for the two of you.” She held the box out to him, urging him to take it.

 

“I will.” Harry lunged forward and embraced his aunt, holding her close. Petunia hugged him back, feeling a great weight lift off her shoulders. She let go of him and closed the lid before handing him the box and standing up again.

 

“Now go. You have so much to do, Harry. Go finish this.” She held out her hand to him and he took it, pulling himself up next to her. He turned toward Ron and Hermione, who were standing silently at the door to the hallway.

 

With a swish of his wand, Harry opened his trunk and placed the box with his mother’s wand inside, tucking it safely under a pile of clothes before closing the lid. He muttered something and the trunk shrunk to a manageable size and picked it up, placing it under his arm. Harry lifted Hedwig’s cage and began walking toward the door.

 

“Thanks,” he whispered, his feet just crossing the threshold. She smiled in return and shooed them out the door. Hermione waved good-bye with one hand and grabbed Ron’s hand with the other. 

 

Petunia stood in the open doorway and watched Harry, Ron, and Hermione set out on their journey, a journey fraught with danger. But somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Petunia knew that the three of them finding each other was no accident. It was magic.

 

 

 

 


	7. Return of the Beast

**Accidental Magic**

Chapter 7:

_Return of the Beast_

 

 

~*~

 

 

He was free. After sixteen years, Harry was finally free of his aunt, uncle and cousin Dudley. If he never saw them again, it would be no loss on his part. But he couldn’t help thinking that leaving Privet Drive was anti-climactic. He didn’t expect a going away party, that was for sure, but he thought there would be more to leaving than what had happened. He had received the Rosewood Puzzlebox and would soon possess the knowledge and memories of hundreds of wizards before him. The thought was thrilling and disconcerting all at the same time.

 

He, Ron and Hermione arrived at The Burrow shortly after one o’clock in the morning. Since Hermione was the only one who could Apparate, the three of them Floo’d from Mrs. Figg’s house on Wisteria Drive and were greeted by Mrs. Weasley and hastily sent to bed. Apparently, a party was in the works for Harry later that evening.

 

But sleep did not come easily for Harry that night. He was once again up in Ron’s room on his old bed. It was far more suitable than his lumpy mattress at the Dursleys, but he just couldn’t get comfortable. Too many thoughts from the last school year ran through his head and they all kept him awake: the trips into Dumbledore’s Pensieve, Draco Malfoy letting Death Eaters into the school, the cave where Dumbledore nearly died, Dumbledore falling from the battlements of the Astronomy Tower, Snape and Malfoy fleeing to save their own skins. He tried to think of other things and punched the pillow out of frustration.

 

He gave up on sleep and got up to pull the box containing his destiny out from underneath his bed, returning to sit at the edge of his bed. For the first time that night, he let himself think about what the Rosewood Puzzlebox meant. The knowledge that he was the one selected to be the Guardian of Merlin weighed heavily on his shoulders and he felt uncertain whether he actually wanted to accept it or not. In the six hours since receiving the box, he’d memorised the letter from Dumbledore, made mental list after mental list of the pros and cons of the revelation, and even tried to ignore it. But the fact remained; he was the Guardian of Merlin.

 

Ron’s snore broke Harry’s thoughts and he looked over at his friend, sleeping with his arm over his eyes and mouth open. He envied Ron’s ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, as Harry hadn’t fallen asleep yet and the sun was beginning to rise, casting an orange-red glow that reminded him distinctly of Ginny’s hair. He groaned at the thought and got up to make his way downstairs, tucking the box underneath his pillow.

 

Harry made his way down the stairs, carefully avoiding the squeaky steps that years of experience had taught him to skip. At the landing on the third floor, he noticed a light from underneath Ginny’s door. He began an internal argument with himself as to whether or not he should go in, and he lost the battle with his sentimental self to find himself lightly tapping on the door.

 

“Come in,” came the familiar whisper. Harry lightly pushed open the door to the room. There, sitting on her bed, with her hair tousled from sleep and looking more beautiful than he’d ever remembered, was Ginny. “Hi, Harry.” She managed a small smile for him that he returned. Harry felt the creature within him stir again after a month of dormancy.

 

“Why are you awake? I know you hate getting up early.” Harry leaned against the doorframe. 

 

“Hermione was talking in her sleep. Moaning, more like it,” Ginny told him, her smile growing. “I think she said something like ‘Ron, oh yes, Ron!’” Harry had to cover his mouth to avoid waking the sleeping Hermione.

 

“Well, I’ll go then. I was just going to go downstairs and…”

 

“I’ll go with you,” she interrupted and bounded over to Harry, pulling him out the door before he could say anything. They nearly ran down the stairs, causing all sorts of ruckus on the way down. 

 

“Shh!” Harry hissed at her. “Get in here!” He pulled her into a cupboard while casting a spell for light. “Ginny, I told you we can’t be together.”

 

“Well, who pulled me into the broom cupboard then?” Ginny asked feigning innocence and causing Harry to blush.

 

“Uh, sorry about that,” he muttered.

 

“I don’t mind, really.” She had a crazy, satisfied smirk on her face “So, you’re the Guardian of Merlin, huh?”

 

“Hermione told you?” Ginny nodded, making Harry hang his head. Without any room to pace, as he normally did when he needed to think, he sank down to the floor with his hands on his knees.

 

“Well, she was bouncing off the walls, Harry, and she could hardly contain herself. You wanna talk about it?” Ginny slid onto the floor next to Harry and grabbed his hand. “I’m still your friend, Harry. You can tell me.” The look in her eyes tugged at his heart and he had a difficult time tamping down the urge to kiss her.

 

“You sure?” Ginny nodded at him. “Okay.” Harry told her about Petunia’s wish to have magic and then how she magically bound and silenced him. The last fact brought a familiar laugh from Ginny. He continued on to describe what Dumbledore had said in his letter and what he needed to do to gain the memories and knowledge contained in the Puzzle Box.

 

“Dad has a Pensieve around here somewhere. You can get it done today,” Ginny told him, a determined look on her face.

 

“Really? Uh, well, maybe,” Harry stammered, not quite sure if he was ready to take that step. 

 

As if to convince him, Ginny reached up and touched the side of his cheek. Heat spread through Harry’s face at her touch and he closed his eyes, not wanting to fall into the temptation before him. “Do you or do you not want to defeat Tom?” Harry nodded. “Do you want to use anything possible to gain an advantage against him?” Harry nodded his head again. “Do you still care about me, Harry?”

 

He opened his eyes at her last question and met her eyes; they were full of questions, full of honesty and full of everything that he wanted in this life. He closed his eyes and reflected on everything that had passed between them during those weeks at school when they were together. 

 

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. “Ginny, you know I do. But I just can’t put you in that position.” Ginny began to speak but Harry cut her off. “I know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but I don’t want to be held responsible if anything should happen to anyone else that I l…love.” Both of them sat in silence, processing the weight of what Harry had just said. 

 

Ginny was the first to break the silence. “Remember what you told me about when Tom possessed you in the Ministry?”

 

“When I thought of being with Sirius again?” Ginny nodded at Harry’s response.

 

“And then you said that you were able to throw him off because of the love you felt for Sirius, right?” Ginny finished.

 

Despite his deep resolve, Harry couldn’t help the tear that escaped the corner of his eye. As he nodded in agreement, the tears came faster, dripping down his cheeks.

 

“Well, don’t you think that what you feel for Ron, Hermione and me would help you as well? And you’ve known us far longer than you did Sirius. Hell, Harry, there’s my whole family. Neville and Luna, too. You are NOT alone in this,” she reminded him, her own tears starting to fall. “Stop trying to push us away and let us love you. It would make things a helluva lot easier.” Ginny shifted herself over to Harry and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him.

 

Harry relished her touch, her scent and the way she felt in his arms. She was right. He wasn’t alone and he wasn’t going to die. The tears dried up and he lifted his head to look at her, knowing that everything she’d said to him was true; there was no point in arguing with Ginny Weasley when she was right. Giving in to the feelings that he could no longer fight, he kissed Ginny softly on the top of her head and hugged her tight. 

 

“Will you be there?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

 

“When?” she asked, her face furrowed in confusion.

 

“When I use the Pensieve? When I take Tom down? When it’s all over?” he reached out and wiped away the last tear from her eye.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

 

~*~

 

 

Harry’s birthday was perhaps one of the best he’d ever experienced. Mrs. Weasley made him a special breakfast and she and her husband presented Harry with a watch identical to Ron’s as well as his own hand on the Weasley family clock. Even though it was currently pointing at ‘Mortal Peril’, Harry had never felt happier. Ron and Ginny gave him a Quidditch encyclopaedia, and Hermione gave him _One Thousand and One Ways to Protect Yourself from Dark Magic_. Later on that night, the Weasleys hosted a small party for him, with mainly members of the Order of the Phoenix present. All in all, it was a very good day. 

 

The day after his birthday, Harry decided he was ready to acquire the memories stored in the Rosewood Puzzle Box. His decision was helped along by Mrs. Weasley’s announcement that she needed to visit a sick relative, allowing Harry and Ron to search for the Pensieve without an adult looking over their shoulder. Once they found the Pensieve, Ron carried it into the sitting room where he quickly began a locking charm in an attempt to keep his sister out.

 

“Ron, please! Harry wants me there! He told me so!” Ginny shouted outside the door.

 

“Ginny, you’re too young and…and…” Ron tried to argue. “No.”

 

“Oh come off it you idiot! Harry asked me to be there and I promised!” Ginny’s voice was filled with irritation at her brother. Harry walked over to the door and opened it.

 

“Ron, she’s right,” Harry told him, stepping aside to let Ginny into the room. She turned to Ron and stuck her tongue out at him.

 

“Oh that’s mature, Ginevra,” Ron muttered. “Harry, she doesn’t know anything about this!”

 

“Hermione told her when we got back and I filled her in on the rest,” Harry stated flatly. “Now bring that thing in here.” Ron led Harry and Ginny into the sitting room, carrying the heavy Pensieve to the middle of the room and setting it on the floor with a thud. The four of them sat circled around the stone bowl and looked nervously at one another. Harry opened the Puzzlebox and removed the phial of memories from inside.

 

“Are you ready, Harry?” Ginny asked, her hand squeezing his momentarily. 

 

“Yeah,” he answered, looking at the faces of those around him: Hermione, looking anxious; Ron, looking uneasy; and Ginny, looking confident. Harry removed the stopper and poured the glistening liquid into the Pensieve. Once everything was inside, he leaned forward and swirled the contents round and round until a long, silver strand followed Harry’s wand as he lifted it. “Well, here goes nothing.” Harry placed the end of the wand at his temple and the strand of silver disappeared into his head.

 

The room became blurry and Harry began to feel dizzy and sick to his stomach. Pieces of memories flashed before Harry’s eyes like an old filmstrip. His right hand went to his head as he sat down on the chair next to him. 

 

“Harry…Harry? Are you alright?” asked Hermione. Harry turned towards her; her mouth kept moving but he heard no sound. Thousands of voices were shouting at him inside his head so quickly that he had no time to pay attention to anything. The room began to spin around him and he fell to the floor before everything went black.

 


	8. Knowledge is Power

**Accidental Magic**

Chapter Eight:

_Knowledge is Power_

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

 

“Harry? Harry? Are you alright?” asked Hermione. Harry turned towards her; her mouth kept moving but he heard no sound. Thousands of voices were shouting at him inside his head so quickly that he had no time to pay attention to anything. The room began to spin around him and he fell to the floor before everything went black.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Harry’s eyes fluttered open to find a blurry room before him. He rolled to his side and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. Once he had them on, he noticed he was not in the sitting room, but in what he thought was once Percy’s room. He sat up, but lay down as a dizzy spell hit him. His eyes went to the window, its curtains fluttering in the midday breeze. He sat up, a bit more slowly this time, and pushed the blankets to the end of the bed before shaking the imaginary cobwebs from his brain. Harry got off bed, found his clothes (brought down from Ron’s room for some reason), and got dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

 

_How’d I get undressed anyway_? he asked himself while running a hand through his hair. He opened the door into the hallway and was greeted with a shriek.

 

“Harry!” Ginny flung herself at him, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Harry! Thank GOD you woke up!” She began patting his arms as if she was trying to make sure he was real.

 

“Why wouldn’t I wake up? I just passed out, right?,” he asked her and began walking toward the stairs.

 

“Harry, you were asleep for three _DAYS_ ,” Ginny whispered. Harry turned on his heel and stared at Ginny, not believing what he’d just heard.

 

“What? No way! I…”

 

“Mum! He’s up!” Ron shouted from the top of the stairs with Hermione right behind him. “Blimey, Harry, you gave us a scare!” Ron patted Harry on the shoulder enthusiastically.

 

“Harry, you have to tell us what you learned from those memories! There has to be information about the Horcruxes in there,” added Hermione as she ripped Harry from Ron’s arms.

 

“Wait, someone please tell me what happened.” Harry went back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed with the others joining him.

 

“Well, after you added the memories, you passed out,” began Ron.

 

“I think I figured that one out, Ron,” Harry shot back. He turned to Hermione, knowing she would give it to him straight.

 

“You wouldn’t wake up. We tried different spells but nothing worked,” she explained.

 

“And when Mum got home,” added Ginny, “she tried everything she could think of but you wouldn’t wake up.”

 

“Then we had to explain to Mum what happened and about you being the Guardian of Merlin and all,” Ron finished. “We brought you up here so you’d be closer to Mum.”

 

“I was just on my way in to check on you,” Ginny told him, a little pink showing on her cheeks. Harry smiled back at her, feeling his own face heat up.

 

“Harry! Harry, thank Godric you’re awake!” Mrs. Weasley burst into the room, her face streaming with tears. The woman swaddled Harry in her arms while unashamedly crying in relief. “Y…you gave us quite a scare, you did.”

 

“Mum, let him breathe. He’s weak from not eating in three days.” Ron winked at Harry. “Besides, I think he needs to take a piss, too.”

 

“Ron!” shouted both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley.

 

“Oh, yes, of course, Harry dear. You must be famished. What would you like?” asked Mrs Weasley. “Anything, dear.”

 

“Uh, roast beef sandwich?” Harry’s mouth began to water. He was hungry. Mrs Weasley nodded and left the room.

 

“So, mate, did you learn anything with all that knowledge?” Ron asked curiously.

 

“Harry, there’s so much you could do. Imagine the possibilities for your future!” Hermione went on excitedly.

 

“Yeah, he’d get more NEWTs than you!” Ron chimed.

 

Hermione’s smile was gone. “Well, yes, I suppose, but seeing as how we’re not going back…”

 

“WHAT?” Ginny shouted. “You sure as hell are NOT leaving me in that damned castle by myself or here at home with Mum, you three!” Ginny’s anger was tangible and the tension in the room grew ten-fold.

 

“Wait a minute,” Harry said, stopping the inevitable argument. “Let me think. There’s something in here.” Harry tapped his head for emphasis. The others watched him close his eyes and rub his temple. Harry bit his lip and began to sort through millennia of memories.

 

“Harry?” Ginny asked, touching him lightly on the shoulder.

 

“Shh!” Harry hissed, swatting away her hand. “The cup. Where’ve I seen that before?” Harry stood up and began pacing again, his eyes still closed and his lip bleeding. He could hear Ron and Hermione mumble something but it was only noise at this point. “No, no. YES!” His eyes flew open and he turned around to face the others.

 

“What about the cup, Harry?” asked Ron, his eyes wide with excitement.

 

“What cup? What’re you talking about?” Ginny asked. “What’s going on?”

 

“In a minute, Ginny, okay?” Harry assured her. “I’ll tell you soon, alright?” He turned to face her and gave her a smile. “It’s at Hogwarts. The cup is at Hogwarts,” Harry stated without emotion.

 

“You’re joking!” exclaimed Ron. “Dumbledore should’ve known!”

 

“He didn’t like Divination, remember?” Harry reminded him. “But he couldn’t sack her since she was the one who did my prophecy.”

 

“What does Trelawney have to do with this, Harry? You’re not making any sense,” Hermione pointed out.

 

“Trelawney’s got all those cups in her room. It’s in there.” Harry sat down between Ron and Hermione. “She’s got all those tea cups. Dumbledore was up there a few years ago and was admiring her cups. He looked right at it!” Harry felt excited, thrilled and overjoyed at this new gift he’d received.

 

“Are you sure?” Ron asked, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

 

“Yes! It’s not just in Dumbledore’s memory. It’s in Ravenclaw’s too. She GAVE it to Hufflepuff.” Harry paused to watch the realisation sweep over his friends.

 

“Wow,” Ron muttered. Hermione was speechless. “Keep going Harry. Think about Ravenclaw.”

 

“Yes, Harry. Maybe you can remember what her item is,” Hermione urged, finally able to speak. “Think, Harry.”

 

He closed his eyes again and felt a hand on each shoulder and another hand on his knee. Ginny. She must have moved in front of him. Harry shoved aside the thoughts of Ginny touching him and focused on Rowena Ravenclaw. Harry shuffled through various thoughts and memories until he came upon one that grabbed his attention. He opened his eyes, unwilling to believe what he’d just seen.

 

“I touched the damned thing! I had it in my HAND!” Harry growled and stood up, beating himself on the side of the head.

 

“Harry, stop hurting yourself!” Ginny stood and grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “I haven’t a clue what you three have been talking about, but I’m smart enough to know that it’s important in getting rid of You Know Who. Now calm down and tell us.”

 

“In the Room of Requirement. I hid my Potions book in a cabinet. I touched the Horcrux,” Harry said.

 

“What the devil’s a Horcrux?” Ginny asked, completely lost in the conversation.

 

“What cabinet in the Room of Requirement?” asked Ron. “Whaddaya mean?”

 

“When I hit Malfoy with that spell in the girls’ lavatory.” He watched Ginny, Ron and Hermione nod their recollection. “I hid the book in a cabinet and marked the cabinet by putting a wig and a tiara on a bust of some old wizard.”

 

“So which one is it?” Hermione asked excitedly.

 

“The tiara,” Harry and Ginny answered together.

 

“Ginny?” Ron looked at his sister, astonished by her answer. “How do you know about this?”

 

“Luna told me once,” she began, “that Ravenclaw received a tiara as a gift from some goblins that she had saved from a curse. They were so grateful that they gave her the tiara that belonged to Guinevere.”

 

“Exactly! Goblins made it for her at the request of Merlin himself. Ravenclaw was so touched, she wore it on special occasions and at the beginning of every school year,” Harry answered.

 

“Who needs _Hogwarts: A History_ when we’ve got The Guardian?” Ron asked of no one in particular, but getting a stern look from Hermione.

 

“I knew about the tiara, Ron. I read it…”

 

“But you didn’t know where it was, did you? Nor did you say anything to Harry about it, did you?”

 

“Ron, it’s alright. None of us knew,” Harry said.

 

“Okay, so that’s two more. The cup and the tiara are at Hogwarts, but what about the locket?” Ron asked, his eyes darting back and forth from Harry to Hermione. “You got a memory of that, too?”

 

Harry shook his head. His hand automatically went into the pocket of his jeans to grasp the necklace he and Dumbledore found in the cave that fateful night. “Dunno, Ron. I dunno,” he said with a sigh, looking at his bare feet on the threadbare rug. “We still need to figure out who R.A.B. is. Any more ideas, Hermione?”

 

“No, Harry. I’m stumped,” Hermione admitted.

 

“R.A.B.?” asked Ginny. “Who’s that?”

 

“Someone who stole a Horcrux from a cave and left a note for Voldemort,” Harry informed her. “The Horcrux is a heavy locket with an ‘S’ on the front. It was Slytherin’s.”

 

“A heavy locket with a thick chain?” Again, three sets of eyes fell onto Ginny. “We’ve all seen it.” There was more silence. “Honestly, Hermione, for someone as smart as you, you should have figured this out.” Ginny sat on the chair next to the desk and crossed her arms, staring at Harry. “You really should have told me about all this before, Harry. But NO, you had to PROTECT me from the big, bad Tom Riddle. And you,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Ron, “are forever thinking I’m a baby.” Ginny huffed her disapproval.

 

“Come on, Gin, get on with it,” Ron said impatiently. “What do you know?”

 

“Will you tell me about what you’re planning on doing, Harry?” Harry nodded. “Will you listen to me when I have something to say instead of treating me like an infant, Ronald?” Ron nodded.

 

“Go ahead, Ginny,” Hermione urged.

 

“R.A.B. is Sirius’ brother, Regulus. Remember, Sirius said that Regulus changed his mind about being a Death Eater?” Ginny stated.

 

“And then shortly after, Voldemort killed him,” Harry finished. Ron and Hermione nodded as well. “But where’s the locket? The only thing I remember is the fake one and the one in the draw…” Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief and shock for not realising this earlier.

 

“The locket in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place! Of course!” Hermione leapt off the bed and nearly bounced around the room. “And if I’m not mistaken, Kreacher took it! All we have to do is look in his room under the boiler!” Harry watched in awe as his friend grabbed Ron and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Ron had little time to react and soon the two exchanged tiny kisses, right there in the middle of Percy’s old bedroom.

 

“Uh, Ron? Hermione?” Ginny chirped, barely hiding her laughter. Harry wasn’t nearly as restrained as she was and let out a big belly laugh that echoed in the nearly empty room. The snogging couple broke apart quickly and with matching crimson faces as well.

 

“So, uh, has something changed while I was sleeping?” Harry asked, half-talking and half-laughing. He watched Ron and Hermione clasp hands while stupid grins formed on their faces.

 

Ron was the first to compose himself. “Uh, yeah. We’re, uh, well, you know.”

 

“Oh that’s, pathetic, Ron,” Ginny chastised him. “Just say it. You _lurve_ Hermione.” Ginny started giggling again and Harry couldn’t help himself and joined in with her laughter.

 

“And you _lurve_ Harry, Ginny,” Ron shot back, bringing Ginny’s laughter to a halt. Ginny looked at Harry, who had also stopped laughing. “Oh, that’s right, Harry. You ditched my sister. Barmy git.” Ron shook his head in disgust.

 

“So, then. The Horcruxes,” Harry nearly shouted, changing the subject abruptly. “The cup and tiara are at Hogwarts. The locket is probably at Grimmauld Place. Nagini is the last one before I can kill Voldemort.” Harry smiled as he started pacing again.

 

“So what’s this about you three not going to school?” Ginny queried, casting an accusatory look at the other three.

 

“Ronald! Ginny had better be making that up!” Mrs Weasley barked from the door, a lunch tray in hand piled high with enough food to feed all five of them. She set the tray down with a clank on the desk, causing some of the milk to spill from the glass, and turned toward the four of them. “I don’t know WHAT you are thinking about, but you ARE going back to school if I have anything to say about it!”

 

No one said anything for a long time, the tension in the air around them palpable and thick. Harry swallowed and began to explain. “Mrs Weasley, it was my idea. After Dumbledore’s funeral, I told Ron and Hermione I wasn’t going back to school. I had some things to look for in order to defeat Voldemort.” Hermione began to interrupt him, but Harry went on. “But with this new, uh, knowledge I have, it’s really not necessary for me to stay away from Hogwarts.” Both Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, their mouths open in disbelief while Ginny had a smug little grin on her face.

 

“Do you mean it, Harry? You’re going back to school?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide and anxious.

 

“Yes, Hermione,” he said flatly. “You can still be Head Girl.” She leapt over to Harry, wrapped her arms around him, and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips.

 

“Oh, er, sorry, Harry,” Hermione stammered. “But school might not open…”

 

“Yeah, that’d be a shame,” Ron deadpanned, earning him a swat on the head from Hermione. “Hey! A bloke can dream, can’t he?”

 

“Seriously, Ron,” Harry began, “there’s a lot in here.” Harry tapped his head with a finger. “Give me enough time and I’ll drum up protection spells so powerful even Voldemort himself can’t get through. Hogwarts is my home, and I’ll do anything to make it safe for the people I love.”

 

Taking a look around the room, Harry took note of the different ways he loved these people. Mrs Weasley gave him the love of a mother he had never known. Ron was not only his best friend, but they loved each other as brothers. He felt the same way about Hermione and could never think of his life without either one of his best friends. And then there was Ginny. He loved her; there was no doubt of that. Harry would make sure that the world was safe for her and that she remained in it for as long as possible.

 

 

=====

 

 

_The End_


End file.
